


The Smell of Regret

by ethanismynamehahaha



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Arguments, Fighting, Fluff, ITS 3AM SEND HELP, M/M, dream pukes so be warned, george helps dream when he’s drunk, idk what to put here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29034309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethanismynamehahaha/pseuds/ethanismynamehahaha
Summary: Dream and George can hardly go 10 minutes without fighting, so when Dream comes back late and drunk again, he is surprised when George doesn’t immediately yell at him. Could this be the beginning of something new? Something healthier?
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 45





	The Smell of Regret

**Author's Note:**

> hiii!!  
> this is my first work so pls be nice ;-;  
> this is just a quick one shot i wrote because i was inspired :00  
> also huge thanks to gaygiggling for reading the first draft over and giving some feedback i rlly appreciate it <33  
> GO CHECK OUT HER STUFF! ITS POGGERS!
> 
> anyways enjoy :)

After fights, Dream had made it customary for George and himself to look each other in the eyes after they were in a clear headspace and say three things they loved about each other. He said it would ‘help rebuild trust and clarity in the relationship’ and ‘heal possible damage done’ from the fight prior. At first, George found it stupid. But it was proving to be more and more useful as fights got more frequent. Most of the fights were never serious, just petty things such as Dream forgetting to do the laundry or George not doing the dishes on his assigned day. When fights were like this, it was easy to reflect and reassure the other and yourself that you loved them deep down. Serious fights were harder. Fights that began when Dream would come home drunk again for the fifth time that week, or when George would complain about how Dream never helps around. In those cases, both would have to seriously think in order to remember what they loved about the other.

Dream had come home drunk again. It was almost 1 in the morning when he finally stumbled through the door. George was waiting on the living room sofa.  
“Where have you been?” George asked, arms crossed. He already knew the answer.  
“Bar.” Dream responded. Straight to the point. He didn’t bother lying, George would catch on almost immediately considering the stench of alcohol, smoke and sick lingering on Dream’s coat. The coat George got him for their anniversary one year. It was Dream’s favourite, still to this day. 

George sighed. Dream looked a mess. His eyes were baggy and red and his hair was messed up. He looked as though he’d just been crying. George hated it when Dream looked like this. He hated seeing his boyfriend cry. He hated watching Dream slowly destroy his life with cigarettes and alcohol. George knew fighting wouldn’t help, but sometimes he just couldn’t contain his anger. Dream would make him wait and when George told him how worried he’d been Dream would just say something along the lines of “Well why should I care.” and he would just explode. He hated fighting with Dream. It always ended with one of them in tears at what the other had said. George knew something had to change, or the relationship would be on the rocks by the end of the month. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” George said calmly.  
This was new. Usually George would burst out in a fit of rage, telling Dream how worried he was waiting for him almost 5 hours, unable to sleep. But this time, this time George just seemed tired. Like he already knew this was coming and had prepared for it. He knew Dream would be drunk and late, it had happened so many times before, there was just no point in arguing anymore. He knew what to expect.

“I’m sorry.” Dream said meekly. He wanted to cry. Why was he such a bad boyfriend? Every time he said he’d get better, he would find himself walking to the bar again. He’d say just one drink and get home blackout drunk. George would always be the one to fix him up and put him to bed. George would also be the one to cook breakfast for him as the morning hangover set in.

“You’re too good for me.” Dream was going to cry again.  
“Stop lying. You’re perfect, even when you’re drunk.” George replied. Dream wasn’t convinced. Of course George would say that, they were dating after all.  
“But you’re always the one to take care of me and what do i give you back? I come home late and drunk almost every night. I know how much I worry you and yet I never stop.” Dream was in tears at this point. He couldn’t help it, he felt too guilty.  
“Hey, hey! Don’t say that! You do loads of things for me.” George reassured. He touched Dream’s flushed cheek with his hand and stared into his boyfriend’s eyes.  
“Oh yeah? Like what?” Dream sniffled. He couldn’t help but lean into George’s warm touch.  
“You’re there for me when I’m stressed or upset, you’re the cutest dork on the planet and you understand me like no one else does. You’re the reason I moved here for god’s sake!”

Suddenly, Dream felt a bubbling in his stomach. He knew what was coming as the colour drained from his face.  
“What’s wro-“  
Dream puked all over George’s blue sweater. The same one he’d gotten for George when he first moved in. He’d ruined it with his vile mess.  
“Oh dear.” George sighed. “Let’s get you to the toilet.”  
“You’re not mad?” Dream asked before quickly shutting his mouth in anticipation for the next round.  
“Of course not, idiot. Why would I be mad at you?”  
After Dream had emptied out a second time, (luckily into the toilet bowl) he looked at George again. At the large brown stain on the bright blue sweater. How visible it was. How taunting it was.  
“I got puke all over your favourite sweater.” He frowned.  
“Who cares? I can wash it. It’s not like it’ll stain badly or anything. Plus, I’ll hardly notice it.”  
Dream quickly turned back towards the toilet bowl. This was going to last a while.

After almost an hour of George rubbing Dream’s back as the vile substance filled up the toilet bowl, Dream finally felt well enough to stand up again. “Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?” George giggled. The soiled sweater had been removed by now, and tossed into the washing machine along with Dream’s coat and jeans. George helped Dream wash himself in the shower to try and get the remaining stench off. He knew this would be a story to tell the grandkids, if they had any. They’d laugh at this over family dinners and the like. Maybe this could be the start of a new age? An age where there would be no more fighting, no more petty arguments? Ok, well, maybe the odd petty argument here and there, but not too frequent.  
“I love you. Even when I have to take care of you.” George smiled.  
“I love you too. Especially when you take care of me.” Dream giggled. 

When most of the stench and residue had been rinsed away down the drain, George got into one of Dream’s hoodies, ready to go to bed. It swallowed him up completely, but he didn’t mind. Dream didn’t bother changing clothes, although after George insisted he change at least his shirt, he caved. As much as George liked the subtle scent of sandalwood and cigarette smoke that lingered on Dream’s clothes, he didn’t particularly enjoy the strong odour of sick that was extremely pungent tonight. 

As they lay down in bed together, George felt like things were finally going well. 

“I love you.” Dream mumbled into George’s back.

“I love you too.”

And for the first time in months, it felt genuine.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading :))  
> i hope you enjoyed <3
> 
> woah this got way more hits than i expected :00
> 
> if you want check out my [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/gh0st_b0y0) <33


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